


That Jacket's +10 to Charisma (and he rolled a 20 to start with)

by LaughingStones



Series: God what even 'verse [7]
Category: Motorcity
Genre: Multi, Poly Burners, when you save people on a daily basis, you get hit on a little more often than most people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Post-mission, Mike gets hit on. The Burners try to be tolerant about it.





	That Jacket's +10 to Charisma (and he rolled a 20 to start with)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is the only fic thus far in the series that isn't porn. No, I'm not sorry. Thanks to Roach and Splickedy for the encouragement!

The Burners just finished shooting down a bunch of Kanebots at the edge of town, and Mike gets out to check that none of the passersby were hurt. Chuck steps out of Mutt and leans against the door, watching him chat with various people, get his hand shaken a lot and fervent gratitude showered on him by an old guy who can't say enough thankful things. Mike’s grin goes from friendly to sheepish to kind of uncomfortable before the guy finally stops praising him and goes on his way.

Mike glances around, nods to the few people left, who are mostly moving on with their business, and starts for Mutt.

“Wait!” says a young guy, maybe a couple years older than Chuck but not much. He's been sort of hanging around nearby, not approaching Mike, but now he takes a breath and comes forward.

Mike turns back, friendly smile back in place.

“Hey,” the guy says, raking a hand through spiky black hair, and stops in front of Mike with a nervous smile. 

“Hey,” Mike says, easy. “You okay? You didn't get hurt or anything, did you?”

“No!” Spiky-hair says. “No, I'm good.” He licks his lips and his stance changes, one hip cocking, his head dropping so he can look up at Mike through his lashes. “Thanks to you.”

Chuck stands bolt upright, torn between indignation, mild concern and a certain amount of amusement. He glances over at the other cars. Texas isn't paying attention and Chuck can't see Julie’s face through her windshield, but Dutch’s exasperated smile looks just like Chuck feels.

“Uh,” Mike says. “I mean, it's just as much thanks to the others as me,” he jerks a thumb back at the other Burners. “I couldn't do it by myself.”

“Yeah,” Spiky-hair says, shrugging this off. “But you're their _leader_.” Like that's the sexiest thing he's ever heard of, geez. Like Mike wouldn't be sexy even if he was, like, a librarian or--no, that's a terrible example, Motorcity librarians are a scary bunch, do not mess with them or their collection. Okay, even if he was just Jacob’s weeding assistant or something.

Chuck purses his lips and glares at Spiky, who has great taste even if his judgment and discernment isn't that great. Mike’s just as sexy when he's _taking_ orders as he is giving them, so there.

“Anyway,” Spiky goes on before Mike can say anything to that, “I just wondered if there was anything I could… _do_ for you.”

“Uh.” As often as this happens, Mike still hasn't gotten any smoother at dealing with it. “I--sorry, man, I'm kind of--taken.” He gestures vaguely toward the cars.

For the first time, Spiky looks past Mike, eyes widening as he sees Chuck standing there looking deeply unimpressed. Chuck hastily tries to moderate his expression a little. After all, it's not this guy's fault he has good taste and bad timing. Like two years late timing.

“Him?” Spiky says tentatively, nodding towards Chuck, who rolls his eyes a little and crosses his arms.

Mike glances over at him, grins. “Yeah. And, y’know, the others.”

This time Spiky’s wild glance takes in the three other cars. “Wha--seriously? You're _all--_?”

Mike shrugs. “Yup.”

“But--if you're poly, then…” Spiky spreads his hands hopefully, and Chuck kind of wants to bite him. How much clearer is he going to make Mike say it?

“Exclusive,” Mike says gently, and Spiky’s shoulders finally sag.

“Oh,” he says. “Right.” He looks over again, gives Chuck an attempt at a smile, and nods at Mike. “Well, uh, thanks again, I guess. Um. See you,” he finishes, and strides off fast. All right, maybe he's not _that_ bad.

Mike sighs, glances around again and comes over to Chuck. Huffing, he drops his forehead onto Chuck’s shoulder. “You'd think that would get easier, or it'd stop happening so much. One or the other.”

Dutch pops his windshield and calls to Chuck, “Is he complainin’ again about bein’ too sexy and magnetic?”

“You got it,” Chuck says.

Mike groans. “Aw, come on! Why don't you guys have to deal with this?”

“Maybe because we're not the incredibly charismatic leader,” Dutch says.

“Yeah,” Chuck says, grinning. “It's not our fault you're as dangerous and sexy as a librarian.”

Mike lifts his head to blink at him. “What? Dude, I'm nowhere _near_ as dangerous as those guys, I don't have that kind of authority or firepower--mmph.”

Chuck kisses him until Dutch snorts at them and Texas opens his door to complain.

“Hey, hey! Texas wants some sugar too, Tiny, don't spend it all on Chuck!”

“Come on, boys,” Julie calls out her window. “Let's head home so we can _all_ get some.”

Smug, Chuck lets Mike go. Mike smacks him on the ass so he yelps, then darts around the other side of Mutt, snickering, before Chuck can retaliate. 

“ _Oh!_ ” Chuck says in outrage, pulling open his door and throwing himself into his seat. “You're gonna regret that, mister.”

“Yeah?” Mike says, shooting him a daredevil grin as Mutt roars to life. “Prove it.”

Chuck flicks open Julie’s comm line. “Hey Julie. Mike’s looking for a challenge. You think maybe we can arrange that?”

“Oh, I think we probably could,” Julie purrs.

Chuck glances over at Mike in time to see him swallow, and smirks. “Pay attention to the road, Mikey.”

Mike snorts dismissively. “You guys don't worry me. I can take whatever you got.”

“Ooh,” Julie says. “You hear that, Chuck?”

“Yup. Adjusting difficulty of tasks upwards,” Chuck drawls in his best flat, robotic tone. “Calibrating for greater physical endurance requirements. Choosing appropriate ordeals.”

Mike blows out a breath.

Chuck glances over with a grin. “Second thoughts?”

“Nope!” Mike says. “I can handle whatever you guys dish out.”

“Good to know,” Chuck says, and they grin at each other.

“See you boys at home,” Julie chirps, and closes the line.


End file.
